Subjugation Through Character
by Rosette C. H
Summary: R is amused by a stranger. Enjolras is not amused by one. A professor is antagonized by one. There are only three characters. Do the math.


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A.N. Returned to its original state until such a time as the author is no more dissatisfied with a continuation than she is with the original.

Fall, 1824

"Good morning" was very much a contradiction in terms, but this morning, more so than usual. Grantaire's head pounded so that, if he did not know himself better, he might have suspected that there was a woman poking around at the inside of it with a spear. He at least did not have to worry about that, though: any wisdom in his skull had died of boredom ages ago. So that was one good thing. At the moment, he would be hard pressed to think of another, unless one counted that the streets and the floors had remained more or less stationary on his way to the school. Why he had shown at all would be a good question for another time, except that it would not undo the horrid ordeal he was no doubt about to undergo. A better question would be whether or not he would bother to attend next time.

Professor Collard was a small man. That was not to minimize his ability to generate a headache in the students for whom the previous night had not been long enough that they already suffered from one. Small like a yipping lap dog, or Napoleon: irritating and ultimately ineffectual, all three of them.

Collard cleared his throat. "Before I start on today's subject, I would like to explain again my philosophy on teaching." The collective groan may not have been audible, but it was certainly tangible. Or maybe that was just the hangover. "I believe in a world of facts. I believe in using logic to reason through these facts, and thereby discerning the truth. For example, Professor Collard is wearing brown today." That was it, Collard. Make all the problems of the world sound as simple as what suit you are wearing. One major difference: it is possible to change your suit. "Now, separate from all of these are opinions. Opinions are based on values. For example, Professor Collard is poorly dressed. I know this makes me different from a lot of people whom you may encounter in your educations, but I believe that it is not my position to dictate your values. Some of these facts may make you uncomfortable. You can believe me or not. After these classes are over, I will be at my house in the country, and I promise I will not remember any of you. You probably will not remember me, either." Most of them would probably remember that speech. He had made it three times already, and chances were high that he would make it again. The temptation to recite it with him only grew.

"Now, with the age of revolutions behind us, there are two paths which are open to the poorest working classes. Either the individual will improve his own position in the world, or he will continue to be poor. More likely than not, he will become more so. Now, why is that important to any of us in this room? You, or at least somebody in your families, must have an amount of money substantial enough to allow you to afford to do something besides manual labor three quarters of the day. And the answer is, that in checking the upward progress of this class, we ensure the maintenance of ours. To anybody who may own or invest in factories and businesses which require large amounts of labor, or purchase products from them, the benefits of keeping wages low ought to be obvious. Now, there are many fine writers on this subject, but I suspect that many of them have allowed their personal biases to cloud their arguments. In researching any of these, I urge all of you to remember that you most likely benefit from this economic situation…." 

Grantaire's mind began to wander from the content of the lecture to how little he wanted to be listening to it. He would be the last to object to moral indifference, but he had never heard even a hint of it in anything Collard said. Man was a supremely despicable species, of course. Collard claimed that it was the disbelief of the facts he cited that disturbed his students. No self respecting cynic could fail to acknowledge the facts themselves were true, and not particularly shocking. It was the attitude with which he presented them that disquieted even Grantaire's rusting conscience. Recognition would have been only realistic, and in keeping with his allocutions on neutrality, would have seemed appropriate. Outrage would have been useless, but was not particularly unusual. Maybe the ringing in his ears was clouding his perception, but he thought there had been a time when he would have gotten up and walked out the door if a professor had said the sort of thing he had just heard. Not that there had been a lot of opportunity to find out in those days. Now, he would stay. 

"…because the average laborer will quit working once he has earned a week's wages. Therefore, you can see that it is essential to our way of life that they cannot afford to stop working."

There it was again. Would he leave now? No. Not even because there were better places for him to be that morning. It would look like a protest, even if he actually just decided he would rather have a nice breakfast instead of listening to a Malthusian for a moment longer. Yes, to a degree, it was irritating, but mostly, he did not give enough of a damn to do anything about it.

"Will that conclusion be on the examination?" a voice came from someplace on the other side of the room.

Collard looked startled. Students did not talk to him. "Pardon me, but did somebody say something?" he asked in a vaguely reproaching manner.

"I asked if we would be responsible for repeating that opinion on the examination. I would like to know in advance whether or not I am going to fail," the same voice explained. There was some faint and quickly hushed snickering from the students who understood the implication. Grantaire grinned to himself. Maybe he was glad he was attending today, after all.

Collard stared for a moment, clearly not comprehending. A student talking in class, even to ask a question, was something to be discouraged strongly. A student disagreeing with him verbally- that was something that could not even happen in his world. "I never guaranteed that everybody would pass. If you do not, then you have not been attending regularly, or taking notes properly, or reading the text I wrote. Now-"

"That is not what I asked," the same voice interrupted, and now its owner stood so that he could be seen. Grantaire rubbed at his eyes and looked again. If a statue was going to be erected in honor of the enlightenment theories which were about to be thrown in the face of the fossil who reigned in this room, it would certainly be the mirror of the boy he now saw. Certainly that was proof that his vision was fuzzy. Ideals which do not exist certainly do not take human form. Nothing had changed when he looked back. "I asked if we would be required to spit the opinion which you have just given as gospel truth back onto paper in order to pass this class. If we are, I will not in good conscience be able to do anything but fail, no matter how long I read your book. I would appreciate a little warning."

"Not only will I not hold you responsible for opinion on the exam," Collard replied, deliberately. "I do not teach opinion. I present only facts. You may use them to form whatever opinion you want. So far as you know, I am a Bonapartist outside of this room."

"Opinions hide in fact," the challenger answered. "You say that some suffer, but we should remember that others benefit. I say that some benefit, but we should remember that others suffer. The only thing changed is the order. Both are facts. You cannot deny that they contradict each other. Opinion is inherent whenever one speaks."

"You are basing your argument on values," Collard snapped, reverting to his old anthem. "Values which you do not even know whether or not I share. I do not pretend to be a moralist. I present facts based on the perspective that we all desire to live comfortable lives."

"You believe it is a realistic perspective that we all desire _above all else_ to live comfortable lives," the young man repeated. "That sounds like your version of values."

"The fact that all of you are in this class places me in control of it," Collard answered. Grantaire wondered why the room did not break out laughing. "I get my salary whether or not you believe that a word I say is true. Now, because it seems that some of you would be interested in being more involved, perhaps I will cut my lecture short one day so that all of you may discuss your thoughts on an appropriate topic. At the moment, I have an appointment for which I will be late if we continue this today. Dismissed."

Collard immediately gestured for some victim in the front row to speak with him as the class departed. Evidently, his appointment was not that urgent. Or he noticed that his young opponent was lingering. Grantaire wove his way across the room, because of the crowd rather than because he was unsteady on his feet, for once.

"Bravo, Monsieur," he exclaimed. "I have been waiting for somebody to put Collard in his place since the moment he opened his mouth."

The stranger studied the unkempt, unshaven, and hung-over classmate who had apparently come to the sudden conclusion that they were somehow comrades in arms. "You said that you wanted somebody to say those things?" he asked. "Why not say them yourself?"

"Something like them, at least," Grantaire remarked. There was something oddly familiar in the other man's eyes, but he could not quite place it. "Just to knock him off that pedestal of God's Own Truth that he built for himself out of cheap stone which he pretends is ivory. As for me, I don't bother to yell at a mule who will still be a mule for all my yelling."

"I am glad that you appreciated the entertainment, Monsieur," he answered, coldly ironic. "Though I suspect the content was lost. I must be leaving." Without waiting for Collard to run out of diversions, he left.

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So much for that, Grantaire thought. At the very least, Collard had told one lie today: he would most certainly remember one of his students. It was apparent that the morning's entertainment was over, in any case. He was unsure of the time, but it would probably be a good idea to locate the café where he had agreed to meet Combeferre. Some friend or distant relation of sorts was supposed to be there.


End file.
